


Cops and Crooks

by abitofarockyroad



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, M/M, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abitofarockyroad/pseuds/abitofarockyroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“HANDS UP MUTHAFUCKAS!” A man in a mask screams, brandishing a rifle. </p><p>“Bit late pal.” Bucky mutters, straightening up, holding his gun tightly.</p><p>“Awh shit seriously?!” The man cries, ripping off his mask. The man is tall, taller than Bucky, and blonde. He stands very straight, showing off the type of physique you generally only see on superheroes in films. “How long have you been here?”</p><p>“Like, 8 minutes?” Bucky shrugs, his eyes flickering over the man. </p><p>“Yeah sure thing man. The names Steve by the way.” He moves forward, hand outstretched. Bucky takes it, mildly confused, and shakes quickly. “And you are…?” </p><p>“Leaving.” Bucky says shortly, pulling out his smoke grenade. </p><p>---</p><p>Bucky Barnes, known by newspapers as 'The Winter Soldier' is the most notorious criminal of his time. He works completely alone, completely without distraction. That is, until Steve Rogers, a local crook, robs the same bank as Bucky at the same time. The spiraling relationship with Steve and Bucky is enough to confuse anyone, with what starts off as a simple partnership turning into so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cops and Crooks

**Author's Note:**

> Ok guys, this is something I have been working on that I wanted to share with you. I’ve only written the first part so far, I wanted to see what you guys thought of something that wasn’t a reader insert. This is a Stuck AU fic! A criminal AU fic to be precise. So yeah, let me know what you think. Honestly please please do, if I don’t get much feedback I probably won’t continue because i’ll assume nobody liked it and i’ll write something else! Thanks! - Elizabeth xox

Bucky takes a deep breath, peering out of his car window at the bank on the opposite side of the road. His dark hair hangs loose, curtaining his face. He wears a simple half mask over his mouth and nose, only his eyes, which were smudged with black charcoal, on show. His black cargo pants are heavy with various tools, extra bullets and a miniaturised computer for cracking safes. When standing a thick belt held up the trousers, without which were at constant risk of slipping down. The thin, black, long-sleeved shirt he wore clung to him, stretching over his muscular arms and contouring his stomach. 

On the seat beside him were his guns, an automatic and a pistol. The automatic he fired after he locked the front door to get everyone’s attention. The pistol was to threaten. He had only shot someone once, a security guard, in the leg. Shooting to kill wasn’t his style. There was also three grenades, one smoke, two explosive. He used the explosive to blow the safe once he had cleared it out, to destroy any evidence. The smoke was as he left. It didn’t exactly serve any purpose, it was more of a calling card, a superstition if you believe in that kind of thing. 

It was almost time. This would be one of his biggest busts yet. The only reason Bucky had yet to be caught by the police, was the time he worked. He would only operate in the winter. People were scared of the dark, and Bucky abused that fear mercilessly. He would wait all year until the days got shorter, he evenings got darker, then he would strike. Every year the police would be ready for him, but they never got close. They knew when he would strike, but they never knew where. 

The newspapers had given him a nickname, The Winter Soldier. Considering the time he worked and his military precision, it was a fitting name. But Bucky didn’t care about that kind of thing. He wasn’t doing this for this attention as he knows so many people do. No, he was doing this for the pure rush. The thrill of the ten minutes he had inside to work before he had to leave. The thrill of the getaway, speeding away from the scene, past cars with flashing lights going towards where he just left. 

Call it a pastime. Something to keep him busy. He never kept the money, always donating it anonymously to a different charity each time. Nobody had picked up on this yet, charities got large donations from anonymous sources all the time. They tended to assume it was a celebrities feeble attempt at altruism, giving to the poor to feel better about themselves. Either that or to look good for the press. Bucky didn’t like to think of himself as a soldier, he often chuckled while donating the money, the story of Robin Hood stealing from the rich and giving to the poor dancing across his mind. 

He checked his watch, ten minutes until closing time. It was pitch black outside, the only light coming from the inside of shops. On this corner of the street, Bucky just so happened to know the street lamps were under repair, making his life easier. The familiar feeling he got before every robbery started to fill his veins, adrenaline pumping. He shivered slightly and smiled, reaching across the car to grab his pistol. It slid smoothly into a holster on his belt, and his hands moved for the automatic, the cold metal feeling amazing against his skin. 

He held the gun close to his chest as he slid out of the car. There wasn’t a single person on the streets, only a few scattered around in various shops. It was perfect. He stalked across the street with his head down, his eyes not once leaving his target. There aren’t as many people in the actual bank as he thought. Two civilians and possibly around seven workers, one being a guard. He immediately subdues the guard, cracking his head with the butt of his gun, making him crumple to the ground. It’s then people notice he is there. He holds the trigger for a couple of seconds, the gun pointed at the ceiling.

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE FRONT AND CENTRE.” He shouts, jumping into a table and pulling out the rifle. Slowly workers come out from behind their counters and huddle together in front of him. 

“I’m going to make this nice and simple.” He continues, throwing a handful of zip ties at one of the people. “You all tie yourselves up and sit nice and quiet, and I won’t have to kill anyone!” 

He watches closely as the eight people in front of him zip tie their ankles together then their hands behind their backs and slowly sit down, some of them trembling. 

“Alright folks I’ll be back in a mo. Anyone fancy giving me the safe code?” He is answered by silence. “Eh worth a shot. Doesn’t make much difference.” 

Bucky grins as he jogs out of the main room through the Staff Only door. It doesn’t take him long to locate the safe, and is pleased to see it is incredibly low budget. Not really much surprise considering how small the bank is, but it’s a surprise all the same. He cracks it in a minute, a personal best for him, and he pulls the door open. 

“Oh come on.” He mumbles as an alarm rings through the building, filling his ears. “That’s just unpleasant.” 

He ignores the blaring noise and steps into the walk in safe, his eyes sweeping the room. He speeds around, his fingers nimble as he empties boxes, filling his bag with anything and everything he can find. It only takes him a minute to get enough to satisfy him. He takes one last look before arming a grenade and rolling it into the safe. He calmly walks out and throws the second one in over his shoulder, not looking back as the explosion drowns out the noise of the alarm. 

“Hey guys.” Bucky says in a conversational tone as he strolls back into the main room. “Wait. Hold up. There was eight of you before. Where did porn stache go?” As if in response to his question he hears a crash from behind the clerks counters. He sighs dramatically and holds up a finger to the rest of his hostages. “Just a sec”

“The Winter Soldier. He’s here. Help us. He has a gun. He said he was going to shoot us.” A burly man with an impressive moustache is whispering into a mobile phone he has managed to get onto the floor and dial. He is lying on the floor with his ear pressed to the phone, wrists and ankles still tied.

“Come on now. I never said I would shoot you.” Bucky says cheerfully, grabbing the mans ankles and dragging him away from the phone. He picks it up and listens to a woman urgently talking on the other end of the line.

“Please sir just stay calm, units have been dispatched and will be with you shortly.”

“Well that’s excellent news. I can’t wait to see them not catch me again.” Bucky calls down the phone, the woman immediately falling silent. “Bye bye poppette.” 

“Please don’t kill me.” The man at his feet pleads after Bucky hangs up the phone. 

“Kill you? Why would I kill you? I’m impressed. I was only gone a few minutes and you managed to crawl all the way in here and dial a phone with your wrists and ankles tied. That is something to be proud of. You’re quite the hero.” 

“Please! I have a wife and kids!” The man continues to plead, tears rolling down his face.

“Did you even liste- you know what. It’s not worth it. I gotta dash. I’ll leave you back here so you can compose yourself and people don’t know their big hero burst into tears. How’s that?” He looks down at the man, but he doesn’t reply. “Swell.” 

Bucky returns to the main room, his ten minutes almost up. He checks he has everything, rummaging in his bag to make sure nothing had fallen out. As he bends down to snip the first persons ankle ties, the door of the bank slams open. He jumps up in shock, thinking the police had finally clued on and arrived early. Instead;

“HANDS UP MUTHAFUCKAS!” A man in a mask screams, brandishing a rifle. 

“Bit late pal.” Bucky mutters, straightening up, holding his gun tightly.

“Awh shit seriously?!” The man cries, ripping off his mask. The man is tall, taller than Bucky, and blonde. He stands very straight, showing off the type of physique you generally only see on superheroes in films. “How long have you been here?”

“Like, 8 minutes?” Bucky shrugs, his eyes flickering over the man. 

“Crack the safe?”

“In a minute.” 

“Blow it after?

"Obviously.”

“Nice work.” 

“Thanks.” Bucky says dryly. “I really should be going.” 

“Yeah sure thing man. The names Steve by the way.” He moves forward, hand outstretched. Bucky takes it, mildly confused, and shakes quickly. “And you are…?” 

“Leaving.” Bucky says shortly, pulling out his smoke grenade. 

“Oh fuck hold up. Is that a smoke grenade?” Steve calls quickly before Bucky can pull out the pin.

“Yes?”

“No way! I know who you are! You’re The Winter Soldier!” Steve cries, sounding incredibly excited. 

“Your point?” 

“I love your work man. The whole only robbing people in the winter thing is so cool. So awesome.” Steve gushes, stepping very close to Bucky. Something strange stirs in Bucky as he looks up at Steve’s happy face, something he hasn’t felt in a very long time. He is so close he can see every individual eyelash, every mark, line and freckle on Steve’s face. He can see his slightly chapped lips that still look deliciously soft. He finds himself licking his lips slowly, Steve’s eyes narrowing slightly. Bucky’s eyes flick to Steve’s lips and see them pulling into a smirk, and he is sure Steve knows exactly what he’s thinking about. The feeling however is pushed down when he hears sirens in the distance. 

“That’s my cue.” Bucky mutters, stepping back, pulling the pin from the smoke grenade and throwing it. “See you round.”

 

"Yeah yeah man definitely.” Steve calls after Bucky as he jogs out of the building, through the cloud of smoke, towards his car. He jumps in just as the first police car screeches to a halt outside the bank. Out of interest, Bucky lingers. He sits facing forward, his eyes on his wing mirror. In the reflection he sees the police surrounding the building. They send in a group of armed officers, and after a couple of minutes the people Bucky had tied up earlier come running out. Bucky smiles when they see them all crowding round the man with the moustache, clearly praising his bravery in saving them from inevitable death.

After a few more minutes, Bucky watches as the armed officers emerge from the bank and is shocked to see Steve being lead out at gunpoint, his hands cuffed in front of him. There is a scrape across his cheek, a smudge of blood wiped down his face, and Bucky is surprised he is annoyed. Annoyed at the police for hurting Steve. Steve’s hair is disheveled, his shirt slightly torn near his navel, revealing a small section of his toned stomach.

Bucky shifts awkwardly in his seat, tearing his eyes away and turning on his car. He waits patiently for the police to leave, staring straight forward through his windscreen. Once they have all left, the street deserted once again, he pulls out and drives away slowly. After a few minutes of driving, chewing his bottom lip in frustration, he makes a decision.

“Fucks sake.” He mutters angrily to himself as he pulls his wheel and makes a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds off in the opposite direction of his safe house, back towards the police station, and towards Steve.


End file.
